Monday, February 9, 2015

Dusk Is For Beavers

Caretaker’s Log, Friday, February 6,
2015

I'm
up out of bed and down stairs by 8:30. All the chores are done by 9:00.

Michaela
calls from Acapulco.

I
post a blog.

At
11:00, I reset things in the generator shed. The amp hours removed is at 30. That
seems high, but I don't really know what the numbers mean. Power in and power out,
I know that much, but if it's good or
bad maybe it's just thinking that makes it so.

I
make pancakes for breakfast.

Now
it's time to go out and adventure.

I
put on the snowshoes and follow the fence line to the river. I'm going to check
out the area of the possible beaver sighting. My goal is to not fall in the river.
I follow moose tracks a good part of the way, winding around the reeds, not
ever going in a single straight line. Moose don't seem to be concerned with the
quickest way between two points. I see an area of furrowed snow where something
has slid into the water. It looks more and more likely that it was a beaver I glimpsed.
My snowshoeing destination becomes a fence across the way. I don’t get there in
a straight line. I fall a couple times in the snow. It's easier to get up in
snowshoes than it is on skis.

A moose
looks askance at me from a distance.

I
make it to my destination and I
achieve my goal; I never fall into the river.

I
come back to the lodge and chop five sleds full of wood. I now have about a three
week supply of firewood split and ready to burn.

For
a lark, for a video, I dive into the snow.

I'm
getting cleaned up when Phinehas calls. We talk for a while.

I
take a bath. Wash my hair for the first time in a week. I wash my sweatshirt
for the first time in a month. I let it sit in hot water and soap in the sink
with some other clothes. Let's just say it needed to be washed.

I
eat the leftover pancakes for breakfast as an afternoon snack.

I
call Grandmama.

I wring
out the laundry and hang it to dry on the string above the stove.

I
record the weather.

It's
been a really busy day. Finally, I can sit down for a bit.

Venus
in the west, Jupiter in the east.

I
eat quinoa for dinner.

I
write. I'm tired, but I make myself sit and work for at least 300 words. I end
up with 571.

I
watch a show.

I
get the hiccups.

I
go to bed.

Caretaker’s Log, Saturday, February 7,
2015

A
mighty wind wakes me around 5:00 AM. It roars over the lodge. Howls. Then it's
gone or I'm asleep again.

It's
snowing when I get up.

The
sky spits bits of sporadic snow. Off and on. Multiple storms blow over. The
wind comes alive, makes forms of the fine misty ground snow and blows them west
to east. It's a good day to stay inside and I'm grateful that I can.

I
curl up on the couch and read Smilla’s Sense of Snow. It seems fitting to read
about winter in Denmark and Greenland as I watch winter in Wyoming from the
comfort of the lodge. Smilla thinks: Reading
snow is like listening to music. To describe what you've read is like
explaining music in writing. I think about the tracks I've seen and wish I
were better at understanding, at reading snow.

Then
the wind blows the snow in thick bundles west to east in a sideways slant.

Snow
and wind. Wind and snow. That's today.

I
see my first moose way off in the distance at the foothills of the northern
slope at 1:36 PM.

For
lunch I make spicy noodles and top it with a fried egg.

It's
a nice day. A quiet one but for the wind. It blows all day long.

The cat and I see the black vested bird.

I
read. I write. I read.

I
write some more. I'm not sure how to get the story where I want it to go. I
listen to the wind, I pause in the middle of a sentence (when I'm reading and when I'm writing) to try and connect
the dots in my mind, to make the story work. It's like wading through waist
deep snow—hard.

It's
a quiet day, except for the wind, and I enjoy every moment of it.

Caretaker’s Log, Sunday, February 8,
2015

The
sun is out, the sky blue, the clouds scattered.

I
wake up feeling rested. I went to bed early. Earlier than the last few nights
anyway.

The
cat is happy about the sunshine.

It's
warm enough with the sunshine through the windows that I don't start a fire. I
still haven't started one by 11:00.

The
phone rings. It's a wrong number.

I
eat leftover Scottish oatmeal for breakfast. I add a touch of provolone cheese
to cut some of the sweetness from the fruit compote that I’ve mixed in with it.

It's
Sunday so I water the plants.

The
wind is less severe today.

I
read for a bit.

I
renew my subscription to the Caretaker Gazette. Now I can be on the lookout for
future places to go again.

I
file my taxes. It takes a couple hours to make sure things are right. The end
result could have been much more painful. Also, it could have been much less.
But the thing is done.

It's
2:30 when I start the fire. A chill has settled in the room and the fire will knock
that right away.

I
put on the snowshoes to go get potatoes, eggs, and apples out of the root cellar.
I have to forge a brand new path across the windblown snow. I bring in some
carrots while I'm at it.

I
call Grandmama.

I
make eggs and potatoes for a late, late lunch. I'm starving. It's been a taxing
day. Get it?

I
eat.

Michaela
calls from Huatulco. She’s seen another whale, a myriad of dolphins, sea
turtles, and one seal.

The
cat and I take our nightly walk around. She's in a playful mood. I'm looking
out at the river and I see movement. My sighting of Thursday is confirmed. It's
the beavers. There are two.

Dusk
is for beavers. I remember this from last spring.

There
is a moose in the reeds. She looms large in comparison to the beavers.

I
call Grandmama again to let her know Michaela is at port and also about the
beavers and moose.

Weather
time.

Hello,
Jupiter. Hello, Venus. Good night, Cat.

I
cross the 100 page threshold in the book I’m writing. Slowly, dangerously, my
character and I are figuring things out. It may only be a slight disaster
instead of a total one. First drafts are… a work in progress.

I
watch a show.

Michaela
calls a second time. She says our parents are more likely to visit her than me
because she’s got more things for them to do and see. That’s probably true.
Though, I do have beavers now to add to my wildlife collection.